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Wednesday, 27 February 2013

I am coming unstuck. The stars are like jellyfish, bobbing gently – you could reach out and touch them but the sting would be killer.

Mankind has been picking and poking at the seams of the universe for too long. Pushing physics to breaking point, picking, picking, picking, free energy, limitless resources, got to be in there somewhere, pick, pick, pick.

Where are your golden eggs?

I grow weary of this ridiculous charade. Fuck etiquette. This is my body, my innards, my soul you have your grubby hands in, and I say: Get out.

Get out. Get out. Get out.

Vermin.

Author bio: John Xero is fascinated by notions of a sentient universe, in whatever form it might take, and what it must think of us, if it thinks of us at all...Blog | Twitter

Friday, 22 February 2013

Professor Elkins grew entirely dissatisfied with the world of today, and so he sought to find something else - a new world and a better today. His fervent tinkerings resulted in a most marvellous machine, capable of moving sideways through the multi-faceted universe and thrusting its user into parallel worlds.

Delighted, Elkins went off in search of a new home.

Sixteen days later, the professor returned. As it turned out, parallel universes were, indeed, parallel - nothing more than carbon copies of our own world, right down to the absent Elkins-copies, each looking elsewhere for something better that could not be found.

Author bio: Jess Cochrane is an Australian writer, currently "working on a novel" as all writers tend to do. Her short stories, random ramblings and tributes to villains can be found on her blog: http://lovethebadguy.wordpress.com

Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Marking the days made Dr. Cooke feel more human, somehow. Her battered almanac predicted an eclipse.

The sky revealed nothing. Just clouds of ash, as usual.

She tried to remember daylight, the sensation of sun on skin – tantalising memories, out of reach.

The wan light dimmed further and she saw something slink between crumbling tower blocks in a scuff of shadows and dust. She stiffened. In this penumbra between bright civilisation and the new dark ages only the hostile survived.

She licked her knife of jagged bone. Only the hostile thrived. All that remained were predators, preying on each other.

Author bio: Who knows what monsters lie within us civilised folk? Waiting for an excuse to take control, to lose control, to save us from the monsters all around...John Xero is at one with his monster, they discuss humanity over tea and crumpets.Blog | Twitter

Wednesday, 6 February 2013

The dawn mist hung low and tattered through Shawton Wood. The gnarled hawthorn trees were riddled with bulbous galls and their split bark oozed dark sap.

To drunken Toby there were shadowy assailants behind every trunk and he jumped as a low branch touched his shoulder. He took a deep breath.

The branch wrapped tightly around his arm. He pulled at it but more wound round him, pulling against each other until his body could take no more and he came apart in a gushing, splattering rush of blood.

The woods creaked like the fog-dampened screams of a dying man.

Author bio: John Xero knows never to go into the deep, dark woods. Not in the real world. But sometimes the deep, dark woods of the mind are where the best stories sleep...Twitter | Blog